


Purple Eyes

by TiedyedTrickster



Series: Geta!verse [25]
Category: DBZ - Fandom, Dragon Ball
Genre: 'disability' does not equal 'disadvantage', Backstory, Bardock is an obnoxious brat as a brat, Blind Character, Celipa is awesome, Character Death, F/M, M/M, Saiyan Culture, and also has the devil's own luck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-29 00:59:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6352552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiedyedTrickster/pseuds/TiedyedTrickster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All saiyans have black eyes - that's just how it is and there are only two known reasons why a saiyan's eyes would ever be another colour. One, the saiyan in question isn't a pure-bred saiyan and has some alien genetics, or, two... there's something wrong with them...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Purple Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Note: this is not an mpreg universe. It is, however, a universe where birthing pods and space tech are a thing, thus making children a possibility for same-sex couples (because nobody could stop me). I picture saiyans not really caring who anyone sleeps or mates with when it comes to gender, especially these days with how the saiyan race was becoming under Frieza. “Who cares what’s between their legs, can they bench-press a mountain?” If further details are desired in regards to saiyans and pregnancy, I’m putting them at the very bottom of my notes – you can read them at your own discretion.

She doesn’t know there’s anything wrong with her until she’s three. That’s when she gets picked up from having successfully survived and cleared her first planet, and it’s the first time she meets another saiyan. She should have gone back sooner, on her own, but her attack pod had been damaged on landing, and the propulsion systems no longer worked. So a small saiyan woman comes to get her, small but strong, and she takes Celipa back to Vegetasei to receive proper training, now that she’s proven she’s worth it.

She meets her fathers, Battanoot and Utspro, and her older brother, Sparogra, though not all at once. They aren’t a very strong family – there’s a history of producing Jewels on both sides. Once this would have been acceptable, even valued by some factions of saiyan society, but these days weakness has no value, no matter how pretty it is. Celipa doesn’t understand this entirely. She understands that strong is better than weak, but as for beauty… everyone looks pretty similar to her. Some are taller, some shorter, some bulky, some slender, but all are vague and blurry, wrapped in shadows. Some things she sees are darker and some lighter, but she doesn’t understand these ‘colour’ things her family speaks of, not until Utspro declares this a valid time to do so and touches her mind with his own, in an exchange of mental images.

She’s shocked at how bright everything is to Pa, how far he can see, how sharp and clear everything is. It’s the first time she realizes that she’s living alone in a world of shadows, the first time she sees her own face, through Pa’s eyes, and the faces of Da and Sparogra, and sees that their eyes aren’t like hers. Their eyes are black. Hers are ‘purple.’ Pure saiyans aren’t supposed to have anything but black eyes, and she _is_ pure saiyan, but her eyes are wrong, something is wrong with them.

It becomes a family secret in an instant. She cleared her planet, she proved her worth, she has the potential to be a good warrior. If she can’t survive then she can’t survive, but that’s how it goes for all saiyan brats.

 

OoOoOoOoO

 

She meets Tora and Bardock for the first time in the rain. It’s been several years since she began her training, and she’s doing well in spite of her handicap. Her eyes are dim, but her nose is sharp, and so are her ears, and her awareness of the world around her is acute. She can always tell when another living being is nearby, always, not through scent or hearing but some other, unnamed sense which she never talks about to anyone else. Because she learned early that questions are the last thing she wants directed at her, especially questions containing the word ‘purple.’

Regardless, it is this unnamed sense that lets her know that there’s two people nearby while she’s sniffing melkai fruit, finding the ones she likes best to eat first, the ones with the bitter-sweet scent. She feels the watchers, and uses her trick to see what they’re doing.

 _‘You’re not supposed to touch others’ minds with yours, except in special circumstances,’_ that’s what Pa and Da have taught her, _‘you’re not supposed to touch their thoughts.’_ And people notice when she goes poking around in their heads, unless she’s really careful, so it’s generally not worth it, not when minds are so well-guarded.

But people don’t guard their eyes. She learned almost by accident that she could ‘borrow’ another’s eyes to see what they see, and they won’t notice. This trick is another thing she doesn’t talk about – it’s too useful to risk it being taboo. Looking through their eyes, she sees herself, in double; they’re both looking at her.

One of the things you learn how to do when others are your eyes is figure out where your target is based on how you look from their point of view, in coordination with the ‘sense’ of where they are. Of the two melkai she throws, only one connects (they’re fairly far away, and her aim still needs some work), but it makes quite an impact. There’s laughter, then a shadowy shape moves into her range of vision, followed by a taller figure that’s wiping its face.

“How did you know we were there?” the shorter one asks, curious and friendly, “We were almost completely hidden by rocks, and you had your back to us until you threw those melkai.”

“I’ve got good ears – I heard you moving around.” She glares in the general direction of their faces.

“Over the rain?” the taller one asks skeptically.

 She shrugs, unyielding. “Not my fault if you’re loud.” She walks closer, narrowing her eyes as she does so. She’s learned this makes it look like she’s scrutinizing people, and covers up the fact that what she’s really doing is fixing their scents in her mind. Normal saiyans rely on sight and scent for recognition, but that obviously doesn’t work for her, so she focuses on the sense she has.

“Hn.” The tall one grunts, but sounds a little pleased, and other one heaves a weary sigh.

“Okay, fine, she was worth approaching, you were right again.”

“Damn straight I am.”

The other shakes his head, then holds out a hand. “I’m Tora, he’s Bardock.”

“And I’m not interested.” She goes back to eating. She doesn’t have friends, and she doesn’t need them. Friends get close. Friends learn details. Friends might notice that she has a physical deformity, one that should have gotten her culled, not missioned.

They don’t go away, though, and she can’t force them because it’s raining, and you don’t fight in the rain. She’s stretched the rules to breaking by throwing the melkai fruit at them (and, if called on it, plans to claim she was sharing it with them (forcefully)), and to do more would be unwise.

They’re very different from each other – Tora friendly and outgoing, Bardock cold and withdrawn – but it’s obvious that they already know each other well and are friendly with each other, or else they wouldn’t be together like this in the rain.

“Why don’t you go find your families, like you’re supposed to?” she growls at one point, and Tora shrugs.

“My mom and brother are off-world. Bardock doesn’t have any family.”

There’s a grunt of agreement from where Bardock’s lying on a rock behind them, and she’s a little surprised at how easily he admits to it. “I never knew them, one of my aunts took me in. We aren’t close like your family.”

It’s the most she’s heard him say all at once thus far, and she’s never- “Why would you think my family’s close?”

“ ‘s obvious,” he says, tone casual, “If you weren’t, they would have killed you, ‘cause you’re blind.” And she can _see_ him smirking at her because Tora’s looking at both of them and she’d been borrowing his eyes and Dagore’s _teeth_ , they _know_.

She’s off like a shot, and they don’t chase her. She doesn’t run into them again.

At least, not until she’s assigned to a squad three years later, which consists of two older boys, who have obviously been through their first spurt already, a girl who Celipa thinks she’s encountered a few times before and who has a reputation for clumsiness, and, beyond them-

“So, your name’s Celipa, eh? Nice to finally know.” And she can _hear_ the smirk in Bardock’s voice, even as Tora waves.

 

OoOoOoOoO

 

One of the older boys – Totepo or Shugesh – should be in charge. They have more experience, since they’ve done this before, and they’re obviously not hopeless fighters because they managed to survive the mission that killed the rest of their original squad. But it’s obvious to everyone, after the first few missions, that Bardock’s the boss. Celipa’s sure he’s going to blow her cover – has no idea why he hasn’t done so until now – but he doesn’t.

He does spend a lot of time swearing about Gine, though. That reputation for clumsiness? Well-earned. The girl’s high power level is probably the only reason she was made a soldier, and even with that her fighting skills are poor enough to keep her at third class ranking like the rest of them.

But it’s not until they’ve been a team for about two years when, after another successful clearing, Bardock has them all sit down and switch off their scouters. Then he turns to Celipa and says, “I think it’s time we talked about the whole blindness thing.”

She stops breathing for a moment. She’s pretty sure everyone other than Tora and Bardock does as well.

“And before anyone gets any ideas, we’re keeping her,” Bardock continues calmly, like he’s talking about the weather or something, “She’s proven she can pull her weight as well as any of us, **_better_** than some of us.” The last bit is almost certainly directed at Gine.

 The girl in question stares at Celipa, and she sounds baffled when she speaks. “You’re really blind?”

Celipa looks away and shrugs. No point in denying it now…

“And I _still_ can’t beat you in a fight!” Celipa hears the sound of Gine flopping on her back in disgust, “I’m beginning to think I’m bad at being saiyan.” She makes a rude noise when the rest of the group makes responses to the tune of ‘that’s because you _are_ bad at being a saiyan.’

“Anyway,” Bardock continues, “People are starting to notice us a little, and that means they might start paying attention to what they see. So since we can’t really hide Celipa’s eyes or their colour, I was thinking we could distract from them. So before we go, we need to find you an earring.”

Celipa glares at him. “Saiyans don’t wear frivolous jewelry.”

“We wear symbols of status, though, or trophies sometimes,” their know-it-all leader points out, “We say it’s a prize from a tough battle or something. And, anyway, that’s _why_ we’re finding you one – we put it in your right ear so that it shows even if you’ve got your scouter on, and everyone’s so distracted by the fact that you’re wearing one they don’t even notice your eyes.”

The annoying thing is, it works.

And even as she’s furious at Bardock for revealing her secret, part of her is relieved. Because it means she can finally relax around her squad and really get to know them. Gine, sweet and clumsy and cheerful. Totepo, tall and quiet, and always on the lookout for a threat or a snack. Shugesh, brash, crude, and loyal. Tora, full of good humour, a steady second in command for the group. And Bardock himself, whose cold exterior belies how much he cares about his squad. Take Gine for example. No matter how he complains about her, she would have been dead a dozen times over if not for him. He’d helped Celipa hide her flaw – granted, in the most obnoxious way possible, but he’d still done it – and made sure the secret stayed within the squad.

Friendship doesn’t happen ‘just like that,’ but slowly Celipa joins in the friendly mocking, the casual spars, the grooming. The four younger members go through their first spurts, and Tora comes out taller than Bardock, a thing he lords over his friend for ages while Bardock resolutely pretends he doesn’t care, and Shugesh and Totepo go through their second spurts. Remembering how the earring worked so well, and now that her figure is developing, Celipa starts dressing to help ensure people _don’t_ look her in the eye when she talks to them. Magenta small armor, and very little of that, knee guards, and a pair of mis-matched leg warmers, one covering her calf, the other going up to her thigh… It’s an unusual look, and it works like a charm.

The first time she wears it, Bardock looks her over and grunts, but doesn’t comment. The next day he’s wearing bright red wrist and ankle warmers.

“Everyone else get an unusual look, too, or she’ll stand out too much,” he instructs.

And they do. Shugesh scrounges up a ratty old small armor tunic to wear. Gine finds some armor in an unpopular style, with a somewhat bell-shaped skirt as opposed to more normal panels at the waist. Toma simply ties a strip of white cloth around his left arm and pulls back the shaggy hair at the base of his neck, saying they can’t all be too weird, because that would be suspicious, too. Totepo says he doesn’t need to do anything because he’s going bald, and that’s weird enough all on its own. Given that saiyans don’t generally lose their hair _ever_ , let alone as soon as after finishing their second spurt, the rest of the group agrees.

They function well as a squad, picking up each others’ slack, supporting each other. Often they scatter the instant a mission is over, but they reassemble just as quickly after a few days apart. Celipa’s gotten extremely good at her trick, and had been shocked to learn that it works on aliens as well as saiyans (she, like most, had thought only elites were ever strong enough to reach out telepathically to other species). The rest of the squad is equally surprised when she tells them. Gine asks what it’s like, and even to have some of the memories of it shared (they’ve begun getting rather sloppy about the taboo on telepathy by this point anyway). Shugesh calls her ‘Alien Eyes’ for a bit, but Tora tells him to cut it out, because it’s a tease name that’ll draw attention to something they’re trying to hide. Totepo points out that Bardock looks like he’s planning something, and should they stop him or let him get on with it?

In the end they don’t bother trying to stop Bardock because, honestly, what’s the point? They’ve all come to terms with the fact that Bardock is a little crazy by this point, and that he’s more than willing to drag them with him on his fits of crazy, not to mention the fact that they generally follow him anyway because where Bardock goes, there lie the best fights, and none of them have made it past zenkai yet, so why not? They wouldn’t be saiyan if they didn’t hunger for ever greater battles.

They’re still a bit surprised when Bardock slaps down the mission docket on the table, and through Shugesh’s eyes Celipa can see their seventeen-year-old captain is grinning like a lunatic.

“Bardock, that’s the form for Planet Lapuha,” Tora says, sounding like he’s questioning his long-time friend’s sanity – and he is, but that’s not why he’s saying it. Celipa can’t read – her eyes are too weak and apparently it’s one of the limits to having rely on others to see ‘clearly.’ The squad are all old hands at working around this by now, getting Celipa the information she needs in other ways.

And Bardock isn’t phased by Tora in any case. “I know.”

“That’s a second class mission,” Totepo points out.

“Yeah, so?”

“So we’re all _third class_ , idiot!” Shugesh snorts.

Through Tora, Celipa can see Bardock roll his eyes. “No shit? Don’t know _how_ I missed that. Look, third class missions aren’t challenging anymore, for any of us. _Almost_ any of us.” That’s directed at Gine, who squirms. “I don’t care about ranking, I just want a good fight. Anyone who doesn’t agree, say so now.”

“What happens if we do?” Celipa asks snarkily.

“I kick your ass and we do it anyway,” is the smug, unyielding response.

“As long as we know where we stand in this tyranny,” Tora mutters.

Bardock punches him, and, well… they’re _saiyans_. The only one not sporting bruises as they fly to Lapuha is Bardock himself, and that’s only because the rest of them had ganged up on him to grant their bossy friend the gift of zenkai, and they’d had to stick him in a healing tank before they could leave as a result. His power boost doesn’t matter, though – he still comes out of this mission with a deep gash on his left cheek, deep enough to scar even smooth-healing saiyan skin, and Totepo’s got three similar gouges on his ever-growing forehead. Tora’s got a broken leg, Shugesh has a broken nose, and Gine’s tail got mangled so badly she had to cut it off. Celipa’s okay, but then she’s the only one who didn’t really fight.

She’s also the reason they survived the mission. Her and her ability to sense other life forms. Unlike a scouter, Celipa’s ability is always active, and that’s good because it the natives of Lapuha had blended in stupidly well with their rocky habitat, and they had no eyes. Bardock had had her hovering in mid-air, telling the others where the aliens were and picking off any that broke past the lines and got too close. She’s never used her ability like this before and it’s hard, really hard, relying on it entirely, with no borrowed eyes to help her whatsoever. So, while not particularly injured by the end of it, she’s still exhausted and drained, and looks shitty enough that it won’t look like she sat back and let her teammates do all the work.

But they did it. They cleared they planet, with minimal damage to the landscape, and it goes for a good price. And that’s how they begin to get a reputation for something other than dressing eccentrically. They take the hardest third class missions available, slowly switching over to solely second class work as they seek out new challenges, not bothering to go in and get their ranking adjusted because it’s the battles that matter, not the pay-grade or privileges. Sometimes Celipa’s blindness and abilities are useful, like for that first mission, sometimes her inability to see is a hindrance, and she needs to have Gine punch her a few times so she looks as rough as the rest of the squad when they return. Because, for all she’s a klutz, Gine has power in her, even if she does constantly prove that having power doesn’t make you a good warrior.

The bushy-haired young woman still manages to surprise them all after they’ve gone through their second spurt, though. They’ve just finished clearing a planet, and Bardock’s grumbling at Gine again, though these days he can’t seem to do this without checking her over for injuries or nervously grooming her hair, and Gine – sweet, innocent little Gine – listens to him and nods contritely and gets a hand on his tail and squeezes.

Bardock makes a strangled sound and falls over, though Celipa gets the impression that Gine’s only squeezing hard enough to subdue him, not enough to cause real pain. Maintaining her grip, the small woman crouches down and flips Bardock onto his back. Then she kneels on his chest and kisses him.

Courtship is different for third classes than it is for elites, or even second classes. There’s less showing off, less ‘proving of worth’ by beating random opponents. Even so, Gine’s breaking rules by not challenging him openly, not making a courtship offering. They all stare as she sits up and looks down at him seriously.

“Tell me to stop,” she says quietly, “Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll let go.”

Then she squeaks and collapses on him, because somehow Bardock’s found the strength to get _her_ tail, and he manages to tilt his head a little and kiss her again, neither of them letting go.

Shugesh lets out an appreciative whistle and Tora’s probably blushing because he’s not looking at the two of them and Celipa uses her own eyes for once, watching the shadowy figures as her two friends finally acknowledge what even the blind woman in their group has seen coming for ages now. No one is surprised when Bardock and Gine show up after the group’s traditional ‘get away from my teammates so I don’t murder them’ break with bandages on their left shoulders and smelling like each other. Shugesh tells them ‘welcome to mated life’ and goes on to wax vaguely poetic about his own mate, a tall, grey woman named Leke, whom he’s had two daughters with, both third class levels, one recently back from her trial mission, the other still completing it.

Totepo looks at Celipa and Tora and says he’s probably going to be the only unmated member of the squad soon. Celipa snorts and tells him that it’s not happening any time soon. She’s had sex with Tora – she found him while they were in the midst of their second spurt, and she had wanted him. She wanted him, and she took him. Or maybe it had been the other way around. Either way, it had been fun. But she’s not ready for a mate yet, and Tora seems content to fool around for the moment as well.

The ‘moment’ ends up lasting a long time – years. They’re both still enjoying the casual waters of single life, though seeking each other out as often as other people, when Bardock – having apparently realized he’s growing a thin veneer of sanity, decides that this won’t do and pulls another of his crazy stunts.

This time the docket he slaps down on their table is for an elite level mission. They don’t question how he got it, they’ve all accepted by this point that Monsan is in love with the man. So they do the usual thing at this point and pound him for being insane, then go along with him anyway, because he really _does_ lead them to the best fights, and second class missions _have_ been getting a little easy lately.

The problem is, the mission is several months long. And, it turns out? Gine’s pregnant. She hadn’t realized – the baby was tucked partway under her ribs, so by the time she began to show it was too late to either squirt the thing into a pod or simply end it and try again later. It’s a tough mission already, and Gine suddenly trying to protect her team, her brat, and herself, all at once, only makes it tougher.

They complete the mission successfully, but Gine has to drop off the squad when they get home.

“At least I can say I’ve got one completed elite mission to my name,” she says, looking on the good side like she always does, not saying what they all know, that she won’t be rejoining the squad after this. She’ll fall behind them as they continue their missions and she carries her and Bardock’s child. And they _really_ don’t say what they all know – that this is for the best. It’s better that Gine goes to work in a meat distribution center, because it was never her ‘clumsiness’ that held her or the team back, not really. It was something much worse than that, worse than Celipa’s blindness in a way.

Gine can’t kill. Not easily.

“I didn’t really clear my trial planet,” she had whispered quietly one night, a short while after Celipa’s blindness was revealed. They had been sitting around a campfire in a cave, scouters off, trying to stay warm on a planet whose nights were far too cold for desert-dwelling saiyans. “There was a sickness,” she had said, arms and tail wrapped around her knees as she stared at the fire, “I didn’t understand that that was what it was at the time, but it spread fast, and they died. All of them died. So I just… did clean-up. I cleaned up, and I came home, and I pretended it was me who did it…”

It’s the reason for her clumsiness – that split-second hesitation before the kill strike that so often got her in trouble.

She’s happier working at the center, the whole squad can tell. And, though they hate to admit it, once they get used to having five members instead of six, they start doing better, completing missions faster and more efficiently than they could while keeping an eye on Gine. She doesn’t seem to begrudge them their success, and as often as not is waiting for them when they return, holding packets with mouth-watering scents issuing forth, Raditz clinging to one shoulder.

Raditz.

The boy was born during the rain, a rainfall that the whole squad was fortunate enough to have been on-planet for. The first time Celipa sees the boy, she cycles through everyone’s eyes, because there’s no _way_ they’re all seeing things right, that is a _ludicrous_ amount of hair.

“I bet that’s why we started using pods,” Shugesh mumbles numbly, “There’s no _way_ that’s normal.”

Gine just beams proudly and holds her boy close as Bardock holds her. Being mates with Gine has been good for him, everyone can tell – he’s less stand-off-ish and, while still obviously in charge, less obnoxious about it. And the boy has a good power level – strong enough that he’ll be kept on-planet for training, rather than be sent off to prove his worth. They’re all quietly glad for this, for Gine’s sake. It’s good to know their friend won’t be alone when they’re off on missions.

 

OoOoOoOoO

 

By the time Raditz is five, they can tell he takes a bit after Bardock. Celipa sees the traces of his father in his face when she looks through Gine’s eyes, though the boy is more like himself than either parent, really. Celipa’s doing less and less of this these days – looking through other peoples’ eyes, that is. Her sense for other life forms has been growing more and more acute as they go on more and more missions that should technically be reserved for elites, and she and the others get stronger and stronger.

Gine doesn’t meet them with food anymore – not because she’s resentful, but because she’s been moved to a different job. Gine’s always had a curious streak in her – she was the one who figured out how to switch scouter readings from visual to auditory, and she always took a look around the planets they’d cleared once the mission was completed, not to mention her fondness for tinkering with various bits of technology. It’s not a very saiyan habit, this last one, but, well, that’s Gine for you. And apparently someone caught her tinkering with a machine, saw that she’d actually made it better, and put her in with the mechanics. It’s a little demeaning – working with technology isn’t a saiyan occupation – but she likes it, and it comes in useful later, when the crown prince goes missing and Bardock starts making connections.

Then Gine’s skills come in useful as she shows others how to tamper with scouters, uses the connections and friendships she’s made over the years to spread the word and learn things. It’s all precaution, of course. If push comes to shove, the king and his guards will kill Frieza. There’s no way that lizard’s as powerful as he claims to be.

There’s no way…

 

OoOoOoOoO

 

Sometimes Celipa wonders what things would have been like, if events had played out differently. If Frieza hadn’t struck earlier than anyone would have expected. If Bardock had been able to take his sons with him, instead of using his back-up plan and sending them off in a ship that, while mostly fitted out, didn’t have the coordinates for the rendezvous site programmed in yet (always the last thing added to such ships, for cautionary reasons). If they’d had more time.

If Gine’s escape pod hadn’t been hit by a lucky shot from one of Frieza’s soldiers.

Sometimes Celipa can almost see that world. One where Gine organizes intelligence they’ve gathered and helps keep the ship in proper repair, and her happy nature brightens the dark moments when Bardock seems to miss his family so much he regrets starting one, regrets ever taking that risk.

Those moments are rare, though, mostly because Bardock’s too busy running the Resistance to brood much. Still, Celipa’s glad that she and Tora were able to escape from Dodoria – she doesn’t know what Bardock would have done if he’d lost everyone in one day. Probably something far less sensible than his current plan.

And thank the gods for Paragus. The man’s probably going to explode one of these days, just go off with a bang that will leave a blast crater and a pair of smoking boots, but it’ll be worth it, because it’s just so much fun to poke him and watch him spasm. Not that anyone can really blame him, when his job basically boils down to being the only constantly sane one (by non-saiyan standards) in the Resistance.

And time passes. Celipa learns more about her telepathic abilities as the taboo on using them is lifted (Totepo and Shugesh and so many others might still be alive if they hadn’t been so reluctant to use it). She learns how to paint illusions in front of her enemies’ eyes and baffle their senses. How to drop an opponent without touching them, or even damaging them, so they can be interrogated later. That one gets her noticed by the saiyan race at large.

“They’re calling you ‘Karn’s Favoured,’” Tora tells her as they lie together one night, “Because you can deny your opponents zenkai.”

They’re mates now, her and Tora. Waiting loses its appeal when you both realize you almost waited too long. They haven’t had any children yet, though. Others have – they’ve lost the majority of their race, and while the first few years are spent scrabbling to get organized and survive, repopulation does become a key concern after that.

And Bardock’s not the only busy one, not the only one mourning lost family and friends. Everyone has lost someone. They bounce back, because they’re saiyans and saiyans are survivors, but it takes time.

Besides, what really tortures Bardock isn’t that his family is all dead, but the fact that his sons are alive and he can’t get to them.

Which makes it all the sweeter when Celipa steps off the ship with the others and sees the scarred man standing on the beach, not in super saiyan but practically glowing anyway, his sons behind him.

It’s a little hard to reconcile the tall young man Raditz has become with the gangly boy of her memories. He’s still about fifty percent hair, though, so that helps. And when he shows them the Prince’s attack pod, explaining all the things wrong with it and, at Paragus’s insistence, showing them the engine of his and Kakarrot’s ship as well, Celipa realizes the real reason Bardock had her and Tora come along, when it would have made more sense for them to stay with the main ship and help run things. Raditz’s face is different, but his expression when he’s working with his machines or explaining them… it’s Gine. And oh, Kido must be laughing over this one, because the little boy who wanted so much to be like his father has inadvertently followed in his mother’s footsteps instead.

 _‘Do you think Gine knows?’_ she silently asks her two oldest friends as they watch the boy talk with Paragus, _‘Wherever she is?’_

 _‘She probably does,’_ Tora responds, his thoughts warm with memories.

 _‘She’s probably laughing,’_ Bardock adds, his own tone also warm, but wistful.

Celipa thinks they’re probably right.

**Author's Note:**

> Raditz’s info on courting was wrong because he was eight when he got launched into space and hadn’t paid too much attention to it previously, and the elites were more show-offy in their traditions than the lower classes.
> 
> Gine, you are adorable and precious and wonderful and everything good and WHY CAN’Y I KEEP YOU ALIVE IN MY STOOOOOORIIIIIIIIIESSSSS~?!? (sob sob)
> 
> Paragus actually used to be a fairly calm saiyan. Then Broly, Bardock, Tarble, and the Resistance happened, and they ruined his nerves.
> 
> Saiyan mating traditions (in this universe):
> 
> 1) Find out if other party is willing to mate with you and such, following traditions appropriate to your class  
> 2) If yes, have sex with them  
> 3) During sex, bite each other on the shoulder hard enough that said bite mark will leave a permanent scar (the act of doing this also establishes a mild but permanent empathic bond between mates, similar to the empathic bond between saiyan parents and their progeny but rather more intimate (telepathic communication is also marginally easier to establish between a mated couple))  
> 4) Congratulations, you’re mates! Go grab some bandages, you’re getting blood on the sheets!
> 
> Saiyans and pregnancy:
> 
> When I’m head-cannoning how saiyan biology works, I generally look at it from a purely evolutionary point of view in regards to whether it makes sense or not. This is not a statement on evolution, creationism, pro-choice, or pro-life, this is simply the mindset I used in order for it to make sense to me. So, that in mind: I headcanon that saiyans females have rather more control over their bodies than human females in that they can chose to terminate a pregnancy pretty easily, it’s just a matter of flexing the right muscles. This is an ability that they evolved due to the extremely high calorie intake saiyans require to survive – in harder times it was more advantageous to simply end a pregnancy (where the mother would require more calories than usual to support her child/children but would slowly become less capable of acquiring said calories as the pregnancy advanced), and try again during a time when resources were more abundant. Given the small population the saiyan race has generally had, it was also more important the mother survived than the child, as a strong, healthy female (as she would have proven herself to be simply by surviving to adulthood) could not only try for another child later but contribute to society, whereas there was no guarantee that the child would survive to adolescence, let alone adulthood. There is a finite window of opportunity for this to be done, however – a pregnancy must be voided within the first two months, or the technique used no longer works. In terms of long-term survival, this makes sense to me.
> 
> The advent of the birthing pod added a new option – ensure the foetus is at least a month old, then void the pregnancy and put the thing in a birthing pod, where it can continue to grow and mature while the mother is free to go out and conquer a new planet or continue doing whatever. Or simply place genetic material from two saiyans in the pod and, hey presto, you’ve got a new brat nine months or so later. This helped not only increase productivity, it helped the population increase back to its pre-Frieza numbers (as nothing can convince me that the saiyan population didn’t take a big hit during its initial period with the Planet Trade (at one point it probably looked like Frieza wouldn’t have had to do anything, they were gonna kill themselves off tackling planets they couldn’t necessarily handle (they’re over-achievers in that respect))). The saiyan race was actually beginning to slowly grow in numbers as a result when Frieza blew up Vegetasei, and this was a factor in his paranoia – they’re getting too strong, and there’s getting to be too many of them.
> 
> My last bit is this: I headcanon that saiyans get really mellow as they get farther into the pregnancy – their battle drive goes way down (unless you punch them in the stomach (then god have mercy on your soul)). This is another evolutionarily sound bit of logic, as it helped ensure the mother would stay out of situations where she could be injured to an extent that the pregnancy was involuntarily voided or the child was killed (this mellowness ends maybe a week after the brat is born if she carries the child full term, after which the mother will be back to punching people in the face and welcoming all challengers like a typical saiyan).


End file.
